


Somewhere in Time

by Prozaco



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Bottom Dante (Devil May Cry), Enemies to Lovers, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Torture, Imprisonment, Incest, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Torture, Rough Sex, Sexual Abuse, Top Nero (Devil May Cry), Translation, nero is a good boy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-24 06:28:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30068094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prozaco/pseuds/Prozaco
Summary: Dante missed in his first battle with Nero and was captured by the Order. The High Priest Sanctus wanted to trigger Dante to power The Savior's core, but Dante sealed his demonic power and refused to cooperate. Then Sanctus tried everything to make him unleash his Demon and even tried to get Dante to surrender with severe torture, but it never worked. And finally, the desperate Order turned to Nero for help...-4Nero/4Dante
Relationships: Dante/Nero (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Somewhere in Time](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19029538) by [Saromoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saromoon/pseuds/Saromoon). 



> You can find the completed Chinese version of this fic [here](http://www.mtslash.me/thread-290684-1-1.html?_dsign=d1b90c62).

"No kissing."

"What?" Nero stood in front of the red door that had never been opened before. Beyond it lay a hidden world knew only to a few within the Order.

"No kissing." The armored knight of the Order warned him again.

"Why?" It seemed that the boy with silverish white hair found those words ridiculous.

"Because the demon will take your life and soul away from your mouth and your breath. You'd better not talk to him without enough determination, too. The whispers of demon are demagogic, and he will corrupt your mind."

"I came all the way here... Is it too late for you to tell me that?"

"This is an order. Bear it in mind. Your task is to copulate with him, and you are allowed to touch him, spank him or even whip him... The Order will not forbid you from using any means on the demon. In fact, you can do whatever you want to him. But remember, no kissing is allowed here."

"Okay, I got it."

The special secret "confessional" was actually a small council chamber. Instead of Nativity of Jesus and the Twelve Apostles, the colorful stained glass was painted with illustrations from the Decameron.

Nero was not the type of person who had much interest in didactic books. But he was an expert on some lascivious passages in the Decameron. He knew them so well, just as we can't recite many Shakespearean sonnets, but always be able to pinpoint precisely at which minute and second Jack draws a portrait of Ruth in Titanic and when and where the classic shot of a hand wiping the windowpane is. Just by sweeping a glance at the window, he could tell from which paragraph of The Decameron the image of the goblins fight above was from.

Appetite and lust are only natural. It seemed that no matter for Sanctus in his seventies, or adolescent boys and girls, except reading various pornographic books and magazines and praying to God for the avoidance of this disaster, their solution could be to detain a demon for fun, lock him up and fuck him hard while telling themselves that they are fighting evil and doing the right thing.

This was the first time Nero was brought to the secret chamber of Sanctus, and he was not really surprised by the boldness and absurdity of the furnishings. There was always a place like this: since time immemorial, in all lands, from the days of Boccaccio, the wealthy, influential churches had nurtured darkness and sin. Since he joined the Order, all sorts of rumors had already hinted to him that there was quite a lot of depravity here.

He didn't care about any of that, though. It's not his concern whether Sanctus was evil or not or debauchery.

Ten minutes ago, he arrived with no idea what he was expected to do: "Sanctus said that demon was hard to tame... so he asked Nero to come over and help to... deal with the demon."

He had his gun ready, and his sword sharpened shiny. However, when he came to the door, the knight on guard told him courteously that: you don't need any of them now. What you need to do is to walk inside and take the demon down by...

Copulating.

… That's how the Order's insiders tame a demon?

"I am not doing this," said Nero.

"You don't?"

For the moment, in fact, he thought of the handsome face of alluring; a flash of surprise flickered in the ice-blue eyes of the assassin as he looked at Nero, then the man was lost in thought at once - Nero distinctly felt his brief hesitation - and in the blink of an eye, the beautiful demon in red was knocked to the ground from behind by two Bianco Angelos and Blitz.

No.

He did not want to.

To see the man - or demon - that he had defeated with his own hands, to see him suffer. It was as hard as watching a rare animal like a beautiful white lion or a cheetah being butchered right in front of him.

Although he only had a momentary encounter with the demon in red, he had already begun to feel a little sorry for such a wonderful thing being subjected to such persecution.

"If you don't want to do it, then Sanctus will probably find another way," The knight said, "maybe get a couple of Basilisks or some Blitz to do the job tomorrow..."

"Is that really necessary?"

"It is. For a demon... If the entire Order, even you, who once fought him to a draw, can't get anything out of that man, we'll have to try with monsters."

"…"

Eventually, here he stood.

Through the heavy, ornate drapery, he saw the silver-haired man tied firmly to a large bed.

The light in the room was dim and ambiguous, but just enough to illuminate the silhouette of the man's body.

He was alive and kicking when Nero first saw him a few days ago, skipping around with a smile in the corner of his eye, as agile as a gazelle.

But now he looked like a defeated lion, collapsed heavily, lazily tilted his head, just in time to meet his eyes.

The middle-aged man smiled, his smile as charming and extraordinary as ever, but with a little more mockery, "I really didn't expect to see you here, pretty little angel."

"I didn't think I'd see you here either," Nero said flatly, walking over to the edge of the bed.

"Such a lovely child is following the bad example of a bunch of wicked guys. I am so disappointed," The man complained half-heartedly.

"I'm not following bad examples-" Nero leaned down slowly, bracing his arms on both sides of the demon's head as the other man did his best to lift his head and look at him, "I am always the same as them."

"No more bullshit, Nero-" Sanctus's growl came low through the veil, "Just fuck him!"

"Forgive me for not having much experience; this is my first time," said Nero faintly, "If I let you down..."

"Please just bear with me --"

He grabbed the man's thick, soft silver hair and pulled him straight up off the bed from behind, and the man in his grip let out a painful cry of surprise.

The words were meant for Sanctus, but now his pale pink lips were right next to the man's ear.

The half-demon pursed his lips and let out an unconcerned grunt as if he thought Nero was not rough enough.

Nero did not speak a word more, nor did he feel provoked or anything, although the man's attitude appeared to be provocative. And somehow, such a short temper of his miraculously put up with him. At the moment, all he thought was the hair through his fingers felt like the most delicate satin, and the honey skin that was forced up to the light shimmered softly as pearls in the sun.

It's beautiful. His muscles were perfect, the rhythm of his chest heaving as he breathed was gorgeous, and his provocative eyes with some tears were so pretty...

Not bad. It was quite enjoyable to watch.

He lowered his head, sniffing lightly with the tip of his nose on the man's skin, the nape of his neck, the back of his shoulders... so close, the heat on the man's skin almost colored his face. The man was kind of struggling at the moment, and Nero's cold breath brought a slight shiver to the skin it swept across.

"It's fun to sniff around like a puppy? Hmm?" The man's breath caught a little, with a wry smile, "Or don't you know how to do it?"

"It's not like you need to be taught that kind of thing," Nero said and threw him onto the bed.

The man barely had time to make a sound before he was slammed down into the pillow and even choked on his breath. Nero quickly unzipped his pants; he was already so hard that he was now ready to go.

It wasn't difficult to get into the man; his hole was already coated with balm for lubrication. But it took Nero a lot of strength to subdue him: even though Nero has always prided himself on his monstrous strength, it was a challenging task to hold down the man's writhing body amidst his angry growls and curses.

"You better not do something like this! Kid!" The man turned his head with clouds of anger in his eyes, "Your regrets will be endless from now on!"

"If you survive the night, I guess." Nero pressed his knees hard against the man's lower back, making him scream again in pain.

They fought again, one-sided, because the man's hands were bound and could not move, and all he could do was struggle desperately to escape Nero's hold. However, Nero's brute strength was remarkable, coupled with his youthfulness; at this point, he was putting all his patience and strength to exhaust his opponent.

Finally, Nero rode on the back of his opponent's waist, squeezing the man's neck with one hand, and he panted harshly...

He let go before the man suffocated and held down the back of his head. Regardless of how messed up he was at this moment; however, the man still looked worse than he did: He was covered in scratches from his rough, sharp Devil Bringer and didn't even have a chance to turn his head to curse him.

The bruises and rips on the man's body were disappearing rapidly at a visible rate.

Nero's eyes grew sharp and fierce with a touch of frenzy. That hand-to-hand combat they just had activated every single cell in his body, and something shrill and high-pitched seemed to scream out loud in his mind, killing, pleasure, invasion, plundering... He was filled with infinite power, and he had never felt such an impulse as he did now! He wanted to-

The man let out a muffled grunt, aching from the roughness of his thrusts. He didn't care; there was an unexplainable uncontrollable vengeful pleasure in his chest. Nero narrowed his eyes, seized the man by his thick, soft silver hair, lifted him again, bit mercilessly into his shoulder.

Bright drops of red blood oozed out, dotting like the finest beads of jade.

The man hauled in breaths.

But once the blood drops were slowly wiped clear by his tongue, Nero found that the skin where his fangs had torn was still smooth, as if it had never been injured.

"No scars left on you, huh?" His voice broke from the roll of his hips, "What a convenient body..."

The man was speechless in his grip.

A couple of broken moans escaped his mouth, and it was hard to tell if they were from pain or pleasure. Hearing this devil's groan, Nero only felt hot, his heart rumbling as though it wanted to jump out of his chest. He looked down and met the gaze of the man beneath him, pale blue eyes with smoke in them, half a smile played on his lips as he looked at him. It made his mind even more chaotic, but his body never stopped ramming.

"Nero, fuck him! Fuck him hard!" Sanctus's voice came through the curtains, "Turn him toward me!"

He grabbed the man and forced him to look in the direction of Sanctus. He held the man's chest with the other hand and gently raked at the erect nipple.

That's when Sanctus pulled out his pint-sized cock and jerked it hard: "Fuck him, Nero... Harder!" He hissed like an enraged snake. Within a few strokes, he came all over his own robe.

Nero's mood was so bad all of a sudden, he briefly moved his hips twice and came as well.

He fell onto the robust and curvaceous back of the demon and panted, like a cowboy who had just tamed a wild horse. It was a moment before he lifted his head with a blank expression and pushed the man away.

He quickly got his clothes together, picked up his jacket that he had thrown on the floor, and slung it over his shoulder. He turned and walked toward the door.

"Wait, Nero-" Sanctus hissed, "tomorrow--you're gonna be here again, you know?"

Nero pursed his lips and snorted at last: "Even if you don't want him to take a break, let me at least take a break, okay? I have nothing left for this demon."

...

He finally walked out of the Fortuna Castle.

The moon beyond the castle was as pale as snow.

He took a deep breath, and the cool, crisp air seemed to seep into his restless bloodstream through his lungs, refreshing his whole body gradually.

The unprecedented emptiness and fatigue swept through his entire body. He felt exhausted all of a sudden... He didn't want to think about what happened in that weird room, the man's beautiful and powerful body... He didn't want to think about what exactly he had done; only knew that he had done a lot of dirty work for the Order, but none of them had ever bothered him like today. He just wanted to get home as soon as possible, take a good bath, throw himself into bed, and wake up to find it was all a crazy and ridiculous dream. In his dream, the man might still be as radiant and breathtaking as when he first met, like a phoenix. Before the knights of the Order could lay a finger on him, he had dodged out of reach and smiled slyly at him.

-TBC-


	2. Chapter 2

"Nero, you don't look so good." Kyrie's soft voice sounded in his ears.

He heard the laughter of children playing in the street, saw the flower-covered windowsill, the vines spiraling down the ground: he was standing in the sun-drenched street of Fortuna!

"Too much sun, Kyrie," Nero muttered, "I'm getting a little dizzy from the sun."

A flower cart passed by, and a mass of flowers jumped into his sight. He turned his face away almost reflexively; the beautiful flowers in full bloom always reminded him of that man, with his unbridled smile in the sun, his perfect white teeth, his radiant face...

How could he be so beautiful as a demon? Perhaps a demon can only charm someone when he appears in the most immaculate shape in this world?

"Nero..." Kyrie took his palm with her slim cold hand, "This is for you. Do you like it?"

He looked up to found a bright red rose held gently in Kyrie's other hand.

…

"It's you again, kid..." the demon with both hands tied behind his back grunted as he saw him, "Here to give me another 'shot'?"

"A shot?" The young knight tried hard to understand the cheap joke of the demon.

"Ah, not a 'shot,' maybe just a simple subcutaneous injection." The demon in a fascinating human shell looked up with an impish grin, "Isn't that what you're doing to me by being so short and quick?"

It was then that Nero realized he got teased.

But he was inexperienced in this – in bickering with someone.

The man saw this. He laughed so hard that you could see his perfect teeth between those rosy lips. Nero's reaction was to smash his teeth with a punch.

"Nero-!" Sanctus yelled from behind the drapery, "Don't hurt his face!"

Nero pulled his fist back just in time to unfold it and slap the man loudly in the face.

The man fell down from his slap but was still laughing.

"Looks like I didn't serve you right... I really don't understand, after all this," he asked in the same contemptuous tone as he crouched down and narrowed his eyes, "why won't you just break it? Unleash your demon and fight... you still have a chance to get away with it alive."

The man struggled to lift his head and actually winked at him playfully, "How can I just show something so private to you mere mortals?"

Pow! Another slap, heavy on the right side of the man's face.

"You don't know how to take out your anger other than slapping people, do you?" The man grinned at him. "Stop hitting me on my right cheek. Come on, let's do the left one too."

Nero was speechless, turning away, and sighed to himself - he had a demonic wrist on the right side, so if he really slapped the man with it, the problem, he afraid, would not be as simple as disfiguring the man, perhaps his head be crushed from it.

"That's enough, Nero, "Sanctus's low voice came through the curtain. "Don't waste words on him, fuck him!"

Before Sanctus could say more, Nero had lunged at the man.

The man was still struggling, and Nero felt the resistance in the tense of his muscles. But Nero had already learned from experience. This time, he tangled with the man with more skill and patience. No matter how desperately the man struggled, he clung fixed to his body like a leech. His legs wrapped around the man's waist, no loosen up regardless of how he squirmed and wiggled; his arms ruthlessly clenched his sweaty chest and tightened up, strangling the demon like a python ready to devour its prey. In his arms, Nero felt the squeezed muscles, the rumbling heartbeat, and the fading breath of the demon...

After a protracted length of time, the man let out a slight sigh of half-choking and half-moaning in his throat, and ultimately took off his strength and was forced down onto the bed.

Despite knowing that he could not resist Nero's brute force - the demon had given up resistance - he refused to cooperate when Nero forced his way into him, cursing under his breath. Nero leaned closer and vaguely catch some words like "brat," "another shot," and "subcutaneous injection"…

Such a bitchy behavior set the young man ablaze with rage. He seized the man's waist and bit into anywhere his teeth could reach, ripping the man's skin to shreds and almost rending off chunks of bleeding flesh from him. The man gasped and shuddered in agony; Nero continued to viciously split him open, treating the man like a fish on the chopping block for him to kill.

It was better described as him invading and slaughtering rather than fucking. He probably literally wanted nothing more than for his cock to turn into a sword and cut the man into pieces…

He tasted blood on the tip of his tongue...

_How could this man still be laughing?!_

How could he smile in such a situation? He was teasing him with every part of his body: his teeth, his flirtatious eyes, his muscular chest, his strong lean waist, his long graceful legs, and all of which titillated him. Now that all he wanted was to tear the demon apart and swallow him piece by piece...

Ravishing him, torturing him into exhaustion and capitulation, draining the smile from his eyes - it must be a great sense of accomplishment. Whatever the reason, whether it's to trigger him for his power, or to torture for the pure sake of tormenting, or, just to... prove that he can conquer a demon.

All of this - the ultimate thrill, the blood-soaked euphoria, the catharsis of violence - made him so high that his mind went blank, forgetting about where he was and why he was here. All he knew was that the deranged venting on this demon brought him great satisfaction - even if he couldn't tell at this point who was more of a demon and who was more of an animal between himself and the man.

"Ouch! So the puppy bites!" The man was still grinning even after getting scarred all over by Nero. "And it stings."

The pain may or may not be true. Nero's eyes darkened as he examined the cold, white stain he had left between the man's legs. He stared at the red-swollen fingermarks and scratches and blue-purple bruises that littered the man's curvaceous body…

Soon, those wounds disappeared.

_Nothing remains on him._

Neither filthy humiliation nor the stamps of violence could leave a mark - the man just couldn't seem to be hurt by anything!

Nero felt that even if he had fucked him a thousand times, the man would still be able to hold his head up, taunting him with the same sly and arrogant eyes that he mocked a puppy and all the rest of the Order.

Nero's mind went absent for seconds - is there anything in this world that can defile this man? He didn't give a damn about how badly he had been hurt, physically or mentally. He cared for _nothing_.

…

"Ow!"

He accidentally let the thorns on the branch prick his finger when he took the rose from Kyrie.

Crimson drops of blood dripped down.

"Nero!" Kyrie exclaimed, "Be careful!"

The kind girl rushed to grab his hand and drag him to the fountain to wash it, but before they could get there, Nero's hand had already healed.

"Hmm, so the blood is red even for someone like me?" Nero said abruptly.

"Why do you say that, Nero?" Kyrie said reproachfully. "How can your blood not be red if you're not a demon?"

It abraded him into restlessness instantly.

…

"Your name is Dante, isn't it?"

The man buried his face in the pillow and snickered, hearing this, his shivering muscles stiffened for a moment.

"Red clothes, white hair. Stubborn as all hell. With a sword that no one else can swing... And a foul mouth, the demonic traits. You must be Dante," said Nero coldly, "I thought the legendary son of Sparda would be extra-ordinary. It turns out that you are the same as ordinary people, get fucked like any other bitches..."

He grabbed Dante by his hair. "You don't even have the guts to rebel when you're imprisoned by the Order as a slave-"

"Kid, how dare you say that?" Dante's pale lips curled up slightly when Nero tugged him up, and his eyes glittered cleverly like a cat, "Look at what you've done to me. You're no better than a demon, are you?"

"Shut up!" Nero wanted to slap him again, but now he was too tired for it. He felt his arms getting heavier, and in the end, he had to put Dante down slowly.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Dante stared at him as if his icy-blue eyes had penetrated every corner of his heart. "Born with such a pretty innocent angel face, but speaks with such recklessness and pride... How could you do this willingly?"

_Because they're going to rape you with Basilisks or Blitz if I'm not here!_

Nero growled in his mind.

"... I've been doing all kinds of dirty work for the Order. This task is nasty in the first place, so I do the job in a nasty way," Nero said without emotion, "Don't bother trying to sow discord. And don't dream that some pretty boy with an angelic face and soul would rescue you: in Fortuna, Sanctus is the savior, and the Order is everything. Surrender or die. Your choice."

The man tilted his head with panache, looked at him, and uttered softly, "Then I would rather die by your hand."

Nero intended to ignore him but could not help asking, "Why?"

"Because you're pretty, you're cute, and your speech is so funny and sweet - it's better to be killed by you than to die by that old goat!" Dante buried his head in Nero's lap and murmured.

He didn't hesitate this time, slapping Dante in the face crisply. The clear and harsh sound echoed in the empty room.

…

The congregation was singing in the church. The sunlight got dimmer as it passes through the colorful rose window, making it drowsy.

The boy leaned back comfortably on the bench, an arm lazily resting on the back of the seat, listening to the heavy metal music in his headphones that was completely at odds with the solemn atmosphere in the house. His beautiful-soft silver hair was illuminated brilliantly by the crystal chandeliers.

Contrary to others' solemn look in the church, the boy's aquamarine eyes were brimming with impatience for the ceremony.

"I hear Sanctus is almost back on his feet?" A chestnut-haired girl beside him asked softly.

"The old man is quite tough," Nero said carelessly.

Yes, quite tough, but a poor eunuch - only able to entertain himself by watching others having fun. While fucking the demon, Nero felt tingling in his scalp every time he saw the old bastard's wrinkled and bark-like eyes bulging out from behind the curtain.

"Nero," the girl with the maroon hair called out to him gently, "you should pay more attention to the ceremony."

"Humph." The silver-haired boy didn't say anything, just cast a brief glance at the people lining up for communion, and quickly withdrew his gaze.

The white eyelashes dropped softly, covering his preoccupied eyes.

In the hazy and misty vision, he vaguely recognized the figure behind those layers of drapery. It's Dante's sturdy torso, the elegant lines of his exquisite body, the seductive eyes on that sultry visage, the red flush on his delicious blushing cheeks...

Damn it! He hated to think about it!

It wasn't right to think about such things in the church - it was inappropriate. Maybe he should go to the confessional and reflect on his sins and cleanse his mind of those dirty thoughts.

That demon moaned around his cock with fog over his eyes. Did he hurt? Or maybe... that deep, erotic groan was not out of pain?

It was an incredible sound. So broken but vaster than any symphony, it struck the deepest chord in Nero's psyche.

But he couldn't afford to worry about that at those times. And in that case, it was not up to him to care. Anyway, Dante was nothing but a piece of meat, and he was pretty much a puppet to be manipulated.

That was his job, fucking was fucking. It's nothing too different about this sort of thing, whether it's for the birds in the sky, the fish in the sea, or the humans on the ground.

He didn't want to think about Dante, and he managed to put off visiting that hellhole for the past few days.

However, he kept seeing Dante in his dreams. And the point was that in those dreams, they were very close... Although every time he woke up without remembering the dream's content, the residual sweet happiness felt in his chest made his face burn for no reason.

The shameful joy - how can a sane person feel joy from hugging a demon?

_Is this the price of having sex with a demon?_ Perhaps he had fallen into the trap of carnal desire as he got into the demon…

Sanctus was still on stage repeating the catechism from centuries ago: O Sparda, the great Sparda, the hero Sparda, who stood up to protect mankind in the era of darkness and chaos, leaving his countless legends of glory on earth.

He had little interest in this cliché before. Now, he even spurned it.

If there existed a demon god like Sparda, why did the Order abuse the descendant of the god they worshiped? 

Instead of crowning him, honoring him, and enshrining him on the altar, they kept him imprisoned, monopolized his stunning beauty, sinking into the lusciousness of his body, and incidentally were prepared to take all his power as nourishment?

_That's enough!_

"Nero, where are you going?" Kyrie asked as she saw him suddenly stand up.

"Back to bed," Nero replied. "Get some sleep. I have work to do tonight."

"Well, Nero, is your business tricky? Do you want me to tell Credo..." Kyrie looked at him worriedly.

"No need." He was about to leave before he dropped back down to the girl, "Kyrie, keep the doors and windows closed when you get home tonight, and pretend no one is there no matter who knocks on the door. I will be back after midnight. If anyone from the Order asks about this evening, just tell them that I was with you the whole time..."

"..." Kyrie looked at him in surprise, and although she didn't know why, the kind girl, who had always trusted him, nodded her head firmly.

"Don't tell anyone about what I said."

"Okay."

"Not even Credo, get it?"

"Yes!"

-TBC-


End file.
